Winter Dawn

The men and beasts of the zodiac Have marched over us once more. Green wine bottles and red lobster shells, Both emptied, litter the table. “Should auld acquaintance be forgot?” Each Sits listening to his own thoughts, And the sound of cars starting outside. The birds in the eaves are restless, Because of the noise and light. Soon now In the winter dawn I will face My fortieth year. Borne headlong Towards the long shadows of sunset By the headstrong, stubborn moments, Life whirls past like drunken wildfire.